He stands, keeping my hand held tightly in his. I look up at him, the rugged, handsome man who risked his life to save me, and I wish I could tell him everything.
“Trust me, Joey. Please.”
Rising on unsteady legs, I let him wrap his arm around my waist, and I lean against him. “As you wish.”
12
Ford
She’s like a frightened little bird, shaking with every touch. Yet, there’s a strength about her I can’t ignore. Seated on the counter, she lets me clean the rocks and dirt from her foot, clenching her teeth at the pain.
“Ready?” I ask as I hold up the bottle of cheap vodka. The safe house’s first aid kit is sorely lacking disinfectant.
“Do it.” Her whimper shoots straight to my heart, but she doesn’t cry, just grips the edge of the counter until her knuckles turn white.
At least there’s ointment and plenty of gauze. When her foot’s wrapped and I’ve cleaned and bandaged her palm, I carry her back to the bed. “What do you need? Food? More water?”
“To sleep somewhere no one will hurt me,” she whispers, almost too softly to hear.
“You’re safe here, Joey. I’ll be right outside—”
“No.” Grabbing my hand, she twines our fingers. “I haven’t slept more than half an hour at a time since he took me.” Tears tumble from her bloodshot eyes, and she sucks in a shuddering breath. “I’m afraid, Ford. If I go to sleep, will I wake up still trapped in that basement…or worse…in that train car twenty years ago? There’s no way you should be here. Not after…how I left you. What I did. What happened. How do I know this is…real?”
My knees hit the ground, the truth in her voice stripping me down to my core. Framing her face, I brush my thumbs over her cheeks, skimming the tears away. The headscarf is half-askew, and I find the folds and pins holding it in place and gently loosen them, letting the dark brown material fall away from her golden locks.
“In all my dreams, I see you, Joey. What you looked like when I proposed. Your smile when I showed up on Halloween with a whole carton of Red Vines. Your eyes the day you found me in that bar.” Staring down at my hands holding hers, I wish I could go back and fix what I destroyed. But I can’t, so instead, I bring her uninjured palm to my lips for a gentle kiss. “Never have you felt so…real to me. I promise. This isn’t a dream.” I guide her hand to my face, to one of the bruises Faruk gave me, and offer her a weak smile. “Plus, I hope if you were dreaming of me, you wouldn’t dream of an old man who just got the shit beat out of him.”
Her fingers tremble as she traces the line of my jaw. And then her arms are around me, her face buried in my neck, sobs wracking her body. Her warm breath tickles my ear. Easing up onto the bed, I shift her against me, lying back so she’s half draped over my chest.
We stay like that for long minutes, until her whimpers fade into rhythmic breaths against my skin. “I’m going to set a couple of extra security measures, buttercup,” I whisper. But I’ll be right back.”
Her lashes flutter against her pale cheeks as I shift her off of me, then draw the blanket up to her shoulders. Leaving the bedroom door open so I can hear her if she wakes, I rummage through my rucksack for a roll of super thin, almost invisible wire, a small, plastic box with a blaring alarm, and a motion sensor.
In under ten minutes, I have the door and the only window that opens secured so we’ll know if anyone tries to breach the safe house. Trevor and Nomar will raise me on the radio if they’re close, and I set the receiver and my pistol on the nightstand within easy reach.
Their silence worries me, but this is protocol. If Nomar was blown, he’d stay quiet until he knew without a doubt it was safe. And Trevor…the guy’s a ghost.
Joey whimpers in her sleep, and I stretch out next to her on top of the blankets, still wearing my boots, with the ceramic knife it its sheath under my pillow.
My entire body aches, the bruises from Faruk’s beating making themselves known with every breath. But I don’t care. With her next to me, nothing else matters.
Her cry shatters my dreams, and she’s up on an elbow, staring around the room wildly until her exhausted gaze lands on my face.
“Ford.”
“I’m here, buttercup. Right here.” The seconds tick by, each one seemingly lasting an hour, as I wait for her to make the next move. There’s so much I don’t know about this woman now, and I won’t risk hurting her—no matter how much I want to comfort her.
“Will you…hold me?” she whispers. “Please.”
Tugging at the woven blanket so it covers both of us, I shift onto my back and let her fit herself to my side, her head resting against my chest. “All night.”
When she sighs and her eyes flutter closed, I let myself sink into the darkness with her.
Joey
I don’t want to wake up. In my dreams, Ford found me. He’s holding me, the solid beat of his heart under my cheek. And I’m warm. Lying on something soft. The scents of horses, blood, and sweat permeate the air, but under that, he smells like he used to. Like cedar and pine and a hint of spice.
What time is it? Zaman will come for me soon.
